


Free of the Curse, Back at his Feet

by MoriartyElias



Category: Magic: The Gathering (Card Game)
Genre: A lot of flowery language, Ajani is here now, Alternate Universe, Hair-pulling, M/M, Master/Pet, Oral Sex, Submission, Thirsty Garruk, Will is in the background don't worry everything's fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:34:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24242128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoriartyElias/pseuds/MoriartyElias
Summary: Garruk rises from the Cauldron of Eternity to discover that his old flame has stepped back into his life.
Relationships: Ajani Goldmane/Garruk Wildspeaker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Free of the Curse, Back at his Feet

The water is cold.

This is the first thought Garruk has as he opens his eyes. The water is bubbling and hissing above him, but he is as cold as ice. He shivers, and that is the moment where it sinks in; he is feeling.

His skin is clamming up. His muscles are cramping. His lungs are burning, and he can barely care because he is _feeling_.

It seems like it takes him an eternity to bend, to raise his head above the water. Empires might have risen and fallen in the time it takes for him to draw a breath, to gasp for air with lungs that fill to their fullest capacity instead of barely swelling hard enough to breathe.

Alive. “Alive.” His skin is pink, the inky charcoal of the curse slopping off like it was just some layer of mud. His veins are receding, the burning purple bubbling up through his pores and drifting away in the current. A breath in, a breath out, and now he cannot help but laugh as he smells the air and the world is alive with peat and rot and shit and he can hear some far-away crow hacking its last cough and god how long has it been since all of this sounded so _close_?

“Oh my god, it worked.”

A voice. The Kenrith boy, some scrap of a nightmare whispers in his ear before he brushes it away. Will is far away, and by the slouch of the earth under his toes he is standing on tip-toes to be able to see Garruk. Blinking the water from his eyes, trying to stand, there’s all this steam everywhere and how is he supposed to see…

“I knew it would.”

And then Garruk cannot stand any more.

The voice, his voice, is hardly more than a step in front of him. The clouds of steam are practically snow-white, and Garruk can only begin to see an outline before him. He sees no leather, no metal, nothing but white. Nothing but steam. Nothing but fur.

He is on his knees. The water is splashing with the force of his sinking, sloshing over the sides and knocking Will flat on his ass and Garruk cannot care because he is _here_.

“Ajani?”

The hands are reaching out of the steam for him, and yes, it really is. Garruk sighs and closes his eyes as he feels the claws scrape against his chin, the fingers tightening around his helmet. Lifting it up, lifting it away, and god his hair must look a mess but how can that matter when Ajani is running his hand through his hair and _tightening_ \--

“You gave poor William quite a scare, my pet.” That lilting Bantian brogue makes Garruk’s bones feel like jelly, and if he could sink any lower without tearing his hair out he would. “What do you say?”

“I’m sorry, William.” No words have sounded so small, no sound has felt so small, the tiniest ant under the greatest mountain could make more noise than Garruk feels capable of.

Then the hand is pulling up on his hair, and Garruk is gasping, keening like a newborn kitten. If he had any ability to focus, he might realize the steam was clearing away.

“Louder, pet. Or do I have to correct your manners?”

His hands are grasping at his sides, torn between the desire to stay perfectly still and the _need_ to do away with his clothes.

“I’m sorry, William!” Somehow his voice breaks on the name, as though he were a newborn, and he feels the world around him tighten as he hits that note. God, the world, he can feel the mana rushing through his soul, it’s welling up inside and tightening into a knot and he needs needs _needs_ to move to breathe to live--

“Very good, pet.”

The hand is stroking against his face. The thumb is flicking at his lip. His hair is still being gripped, and his jaw is sagging open under the gentle pressure of a single hand and if he died right now Garruk would not notice for about five minutes.

The water is moving. Ajani is moving. Ajani’s ankles are knocking against Garruk’s knees. And that means Ajani’s hips are level with his face. And that means…

“Please,” he murmurs around the thumb that presses down on his tongue the moment he starts to speak. Gods above, the simple heat and pressure of a single thumb is nearly overwhelming.

“I almost want to say no,” Ajani purred, really purred, and oh how Garruk wished to be resting his cheek against his lover’s chest and letting those vibrations fill his skull. “But I want this at least as much as you do.”

Ajani’s hand leaves his mouth, and moves to his head. Both hands are cupped around his head, both hands are pulling forward, and his mouth is still hanging open and his tongue is reaching out and the years that he has stumbled in the dark all fall away as Garruk realizes that he can _taste_ again.

His hips thrust, and Garruk comes for the first time in a long, long while. And then Ajani’s hips begin to thrust, and all sense of thought is lost to bliss.

**Author's Note:**

> Would you believe I wrote this thing purely as an incentive to motivate a good friend to get out of bed?


End file.
